


life like a mountain (did you, did you not fall)

by clexa



Series: Allydia Tumblr Fics [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Mentions of Allison's Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 14:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3384794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clexa/pseuds/clexa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s 2:37. She has no texts. Her dead best friend is smiling up at her from her phone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	life like a mountain (did you, did you not fall)

**Author's Note:**

> allydiassciles requested "'Ever wonder if the world would be better off without you' with Allydia please, and I'm already crying probably"

“Ever wonder if the world would be better off without you?” Dr. Lancing asks midway through their second session.

Lydia laughs humorlessly and tucks a stray curl behind her ear.

Her therapist is a woman in her early thirties, dark haired and sharp-eyed with certificates littering the oak paneling behind her. She’s supposed to be the best, Lydia’s mother told her after a tense week where Lydia woke screaming eight times one night.

“Tell me about it,” Dr. Lancing requests, steepling her fingers and leaning back in her chair.

Lydia lets her head thunk back against the plush plum armchair.

“Not much to tell,” She says, “Parents separated when I was nine, divorced when I was eleven. They were always arguing over me - what I should wear, who I should have playdates with, who got custody.”

“I don’t think you’re here because of your parents’ divorce, Lydia,” Dr. Lancing says.

“It’d make you kind of a shitty therapist if I was,” Lydia shoots back, straightening and crossing her legs.

Dr. Lancing smiles.

Lydia looks away, checking her phone. She jolts the way she always does looking at her lockscreen.

It’s 2:37. She has no texts. Her dead best friend is smiling up at her from her phone.

“She’s pretty,” Dr. Lancing says, eyeing Lydia across her desk.

“Yeah,” Lydia says. “She’s pretty. She was fucking beautiful.”

“Girlfriend?” Dr. Lancing asks, scribbling something on her sketchpad. Lydia swallows the lump in her throat.

“Best friend,” she answers hoarsely.

“Why don’t you tell me about her?” She phrases it as a suggestion but it’s not one, Lydia knows.

“Her name’s Allison. She’s seventeen. She’s dead because of me,” Lydia rattles off. She knows the words by heart now.

Dr. Lancing doesn’t look up from her notes.

“Tell me how she died,” she instructs, still writing.

“Wrong place, wrong time,” Lydia says mockingly, face screwed up. “An accident. Just got in the way. That’s what they called it. How they wrote off the death of a teenage girl.”

Her voice drops. “She wasn’t supposed to be there. None of them were, but especially not her. I told her not to come find me and she did it anyway. Wanted to save me, even though I told her no.”

Lydia blinks and clenches her jaw. “She’s dead because of me. Sword through the ribs. Because I didn’t try hard enough.”

Dr. Lancing raises a brow.

“Were the two of you ever close romantically?”

Lydia shakes her head and stares determinedly at the bookshelf.

“We kissed a couple times when we were drunk or in between boyfriends but we never -“ Lydia wipes her eye hastily and sniffs. “We were never together. For real.”

“You think the world would be better off without you because you feel guilty?” Dr. Lancing questions.

“I-“ Lydia begins, clearing her throat. “I wish I was never alive so that she never met me.” Her lip wobbles hard and she struggles to keep herself in check. “I would give myself up for her in a heartbeat. She deserves that more than I do.”

“Do you think maybe that’s how she felt about you?” Dr. Lancing asks.

Lydia bites down on her lip, hard. There’s two hot tears trailing down her face.

“She was so _good_.” She chokes out. “She didn’t deserve it. Anyone else. Not Allison.”

Lydia stares at her hands for a long time, her nails unpainted and bitten raw. Dr. Lancing doesn’t say anything.

“And we were _so close_ , you know?” Lydia says softly. “I promised myself that when it was all over I was going to tell her.”

“Tell her what?” Dr. Lancing prompts quietly.

A fat tear rolls down Lydia’s cheek and splashes against her phone.

“Tell her I loved her.”


End file.
